How Dare You, How Dare I

a poem about beauty

by Elizabeth Moore 

How dare you 

be so beautiful? 

How dare you 

chew me up 

and spit me out

with titanium teeth

disguised as innocence?

How dare you 

make me hurt

make me bleed

cut me open 

with magnificence?

How dare I

think you were safe? 

How dare I 

think of you 

as anything less 

than wildly alive?

Hunting me down 

with whispers: 

look, taste, touch. 

Only to devour.

Only to expose 

how fragile I really am—

how tender and wanting and angry.

Only to shatter me 

with your breath,

your existence. 

How dare I 

think I am a fortress

when all it would take 

is a crack in the window

to let you in;

a melody floating in 

off the street

to pierce the core 

of who I am

and who I am becoming;

to burn away

with laser precision

who I must leave behind?